


Where Are You?

by Kindle86



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Angst, Bisexuality, First Kiss, Get Together, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Homosexuality, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 17:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kindle86/pseuds/Kindle86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's disappeared on some personal vendetta mission, and Danny's left with no indication of where, why, how-- or even a goodbye. And then, of course, the world might just end in horrifying pandemic, but that's par for the course as a member of the Five-0 taskforce, isn't it? </p>
<p>Unlike in the episode, Danny gets a call from Steve, which sets off a torrent of emotion on his end, and some animosity from his new colleagues. </p>
<p>This is an adaptation of the Episode Pa Make Loa (Touch of Death) Season 3 Episode 21, and the corresponding NCIS: LA episode. It also includes scenes and spoilers for H50 Ua Hopu (Caught) Season 3 Episode 22. This fic will not make sense if you have not seen those episodes.</p>
<p>NCIS: LA fans, please read the Notes at the start of the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an adaptation of the Episode Pa Make Loa (Touch of Death) Season 3 Episode 21, and the corresponding NCIS: LA episode. It also includes scenes and spoilers for H50 Ua Hopu (Caught) Season 3 Episode 22. This fic will not make sense if you haven't watched these episodes; it does not spell out all the action and details of the case, but instead focuses on the characters themselves. 
> 
> Stop now to avoid spoilers: This is the episode having to do with the small pox threat, the NCIS:LA crossover episodes, and ultimately Steve's return home from hunting Wo Fat. (I know these spoilers aren't too 'spoiler-y', but I prefer to play it safe, because I hate spoilers myself ;) )
> 
> Regarding "NCIS: LA": 
> 
> Firstly, I am not a viewer of NCIS: Los Angeles, so this story is not really about those characters. It's not a true crossover in the sense that each show has equal representation or stake in this story. This is an H50 story which just happens to include some NCIS: LA characters in it because the episode it's based on includes those characters. 
> 
> Secondly, I apologize to NCIS:LA fans and give fair warning because I've kind of turned Sam into a jerk here. His actions are rather out of character (from my limited knowledge of his character, based on the few episodes I -have- seen of the show).

Danny sat at Steve’s desk in the wee-hours of the morning, combing through the evidence from John MaGarrett’s case research. He’d long since admitted to himself why he was here (in his friend’s house, without his friend); this was not typical partnerly-duty—this was motivated by a deeper concern, a stronger connection, a _need_ to know where Steve was, to know he was safe, to get him back here. With Danny. Where he belonged. The realization of his feelings for his partner had come as somewhat of a surprise, but Danny was nothing if not adaptable (he’d moved to this pineapple-infested hell-hole, hadn’t he?), so he took it more-or-less in stride. Not that he expected anything to ever come of his feelings; he was pining after a Navy SEAL for Christ’s sake, the quintessential man’s man—a physically fit gun-nut who blew stuff up as a matter of course and worked on his dad’s car on the weekend. There was no way Steve would ever be interested in someone with a Y chromosome. But Danny hadn’t really had time to really stew on all that; since realizing his feelings, he’d been essentially solely concerned with bringing his partner back home; the heartache and lonely nights, sure to follow said return, could take care of themselves after he knew Steve was safe, after he could see the tall, thick-headed, bastard for himself.

And so, there Danny was, at an hour even G’d wouldn’t bother with, sifting through maps and papers, hoping to find _something_ to help him accomplish his goal. So lost in his thoughts, he almost didn’t hear the front door open and Chin step inside.

“How’d you get in?”

“I still had a key from when I was staying here,” he replied, leaving out the fact that he’d been here every night this week, spending his off-hours around Steve’s home, Steve’s things, Steve’s _scent_. Danny mentally kicked himself; how pathetic (and creepy) could he get? _Get it together, Williams,_ he silently chastised. 

“You could go over that stuff for the next year and not come up with anything, brah,” Chin nodded at the pile in front of Danny.

“Yeah, well, I think I may have figured out where he went. Shelburne here is marked in Japan.”

Chin looked at the map. “So, you going to Japan too?”

If Danny’d been paying attention, maybe he’d have stopped to consider why Chin would think he would so rashly pick up and leave, follow his, for-all-intents-and-purposes, _colleague_ halfway around the world-- uninvited, even. But he was too lost in picturing Steve in a foreign country all alone, without backup or a friendly face. Despite the fact that he had, fleetingly, entertained the notion of going after him, he simply answered, “No, no I am not going to Japan, ok; I’m gonna stay here, and I’m gonna do my job, alright, because leaving and not telling anybody where I’m going is not my style.”

“I know.” Chin couldn’t really figure out what to say in response to that emotional remonstrance of the absent-man’s actions. Of course, Danny didn’t give him much of a window to even try, as he continued:

“This guy, he, he leaves me a note, he says he’s going after Shelburne; he disappears for a week and he doesn’t call, he doesn’t say ‘I’m alive’ he doesn’t say ‘Everything’s ok.’” Danny hoped he’d managed to keep the utter heartbreak he was feeling out of his voice; but with Chin for an audience, the best he could really hope for would be Chin chalking it up to his generally emotional disposition and nothing more…

“Steve believes Shelburne is the answer to a lot of questions, including why his father was murdered,” Chin offered, knowing his attempt to explain Steve’s actions, which so obviously hit Danny incredibly hard, would fall short.

“Yeah, well his dad is dead, and finding Shelburne isn’t gonna change that. I promise you that.” Chin could hear the silent meaning behind the words (“I’m not; I’m here, I’m alive. But I’m not enough; I’ll never be enough. And instead he’ll  go running after his dead father and get himself killed before anything can even happen between us.”). Before he could find the appropriate words to obliquely console Danny (without letting him know that he knew Danny’s feelings ran deeper than simple friendship), the Governor called them out to a case.

 

~*~*~*~

The freaky case managed to preoccupy most of Danny’s thoughts—or at least get him to dedicate enough of them to doing his job; fear of a world-ending epidemic will do that. Add to that the extra responsibilities of leading the team himself (though, not having to requisition additional firearms for a gun-happy SEAL did lighten his load a little), and Danny almost had the satisfaction of ten whole minutes where he didn’t think of Steve.

Then he had to call LA.

Pushing through the part of the conversation where he identified their common associate as quickly as possible, crafting the meager excuse for Steve’s absence (“on leave”? that didn’t begin to cover it), Danny was pleased to find the severity of the case able to focus the two NCIS agents (as well as himself). After no more than two minutes on the phone, the two agents already had plans to head his way. While he wasn’t particularly keen on partnering with another SEAL, he could use all the help he could get…

~*~*~*~

Meeting Sam and Callen was fine enough; Sam’s long-sleeves covered the area where Danny assumed his tattoo would be… not that he was thinking about SEALS, or maritime tattoos, or Steve. Not at all. There was a case to focus on. An important one that they were all here to solve. He could do that; he _had to_ do that. _Get it under control, Williams. Do your job. What is wrong with you?_ he mentally chastised.

 “McGarrett trying to skip out on the steak dinner he owes me?” Sam joked.

Sure enough, Steve was the first topic of conversation; of course he was. Because that was Danny’s life.

“See, that would explain a lot,” Danny tried (and failed) at flippancy. Blowing past the remark was really all he could do. They had work to do, and even if they didn’t, he couldn’t handle a conversation about Steve right now (probably not later either). So, he shut it down; and moved on (to a particularly uninteresting conversation about the name of his car— _the name of his car? Really??_ ). Yet, despite its banality, the subject change and mental shift was essentially successful—until about 5 minutes into the car-ride, when his phone rang.

“Danny Williams,” he said, into his car’s speaker phone, hands on the wheel. Silence greeted him in response. “Hello?” When there was still no response, Danny reached for the ‘end call’ button, huffing in annoyance. Then, as if the caller _knew_ what he was doing, there was a rough throat-clearing on the other end. Danny’s hand froze mid-air; he knew that sound.

“Steve??” Danny asked in utter disbelief. He waited for a response, before trying again. “Steve, babe, where are you? _Will you please tell me where you are?_!” There was pleading in his voice. Then anger entered the swirl of emotions betrayed in his words: “Steven, you _cannot_ do this to a person! You’re gone a friggin’ _week_ with no contact?! Did you even _think_ what you did to the people you left back here? Did you?! And now, what, now you call to not even say two words. To not even say, ‘I’m ok’?!”

Silence, still.

But if Danny strained, he could hear what sounded like soft breathing, someone struggling to keep their emotions in check. His voice softened with a sudden realization; “This _is_ you calling to say that isn’t it?” His heart was almost breaking now— _what the hell was wrong with him? Since when did he become a permanent emotional rollercoaster?_ “Ok, message received, SuperSeal…” his voice actually cracked at the nickname. “Please, just promise me, that as soon as you can tell me where you are, you will?” The begging was unmistakable; he was wrecked; whether he even remembered he had company in the car or not was uncertain.

 Callen eyed Danny critically, reading him from the back seat via the rearview mirror. Sam stared resolutely ahead.

“And, look, will you please remember that there are people back here—living, breathing people—who love you and want you home safe?” The silence remained, but the breathing on the other end of the phone hitched—or at least Danny thought it did. His own dropped out for a second, with the weight of his admission hanging in the air (though, of course, he’d claim he meant the whole _ohana_ love thing… the whole team, an’ all that… nothing more, nothing more). “Just, call again, ok? _Soon._ Do not make me wait another week, Steven.” Danny stopped, trying to force some normalcy into his voice; his attempt at light-hearted snarky banter failed utterly, and he wound up with a tight plea of, “Please just, just come home before you blow up half a continent or something.” He heard the gust of breath expelled on the other end—surprise? attempted laugh? he couldn’t tell for sure. And then the line went dead.

Danny took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady himself. He needed to slow his breathing; his chest felt tight; dear Lord, were his eyes wet? Seriously, what was going on with him? Blinking ferociously, he managed to avoid any tears actually falling. _Thank heaven for small victories_ , Danny thought to himself.

He cleared his throat and got up his courage so as to finally acknowledge the people who were still in his car with him. Who had just heard that entire exchange. Sure, Steve probably came off well—all he’d done was breathe. _Oh G’d_ , Danny thought. _What if Steve didn’t want to hear any of that? I sounded like a complete idiot, like I’m friggin’_ lost _without him…_ He tried to avoid acknowledging the veracity of that statement.

“Right, so… we’re about ten minutes from headquarters. I’ll introduce you to the rest of Five-0 and they can give you the rundown. You say you have history with this guy ‘Komescu’?” Danny forced a neutral tone to his voice, deciding to just pretend the phone call had never happened.

Callen answered him—something about a blood feud. That was almost interesting enough to sidetrack his thoughts. At least it was enough material to sustain a conversation that could pass the remainder of the car ride.

After arriving at headquarters, Danny led the two into the building. He barely stopped to look them in the eye when introducing Chin and Kono to the newcomers.

“Steve speaks very highly of you,” Chin commented to Sam, giving his hand a firm shake.

Ducking his head in acknowledgement of the compliment, Sam answered, “Well, I’m sorry he’s missing the party.”

“Right, ok, enough with the pleasantries,” Danny interjected with an air of finality, pushing down the lump in his throat and trying to focus everyone on the job at hand rather than on their missing colleague. ( _It’s not like it was minor case here! He had every justification in trying to direct all his energy there, and not… to Japan. Or Korea. Or who-the-hell-knew-where._ )If he didn’t mention the phone call right away, that was excused too—on the same grounds. And if Sam and Callen seemed surprised at Danny’s failure to inform his team of the recent contact, they didn’t voice their concern. “Kono, what’s good?” he prompted, and like a G’d-send, she jumped right in to the latest findings.

Eventually, Danny would have to tell Chin and Kono about the call, that Steve was still alive. He owed them that much; they were just as much a part of Steve’s family as he was, just as worried about him. Though, it was unlikely they actually found themselves unable to sleep at night for worrying; then again, that wasn’t a pissing contest he wanted to have—he was pretty sure winning was synonymous with losing, here (at least for the sleep deprivation, if not the general futile-romance implications).

After the briefing, the team separated somewhat naturally to follow leads—Danny with Chin, and Sam with Callen. Danny was more than happy to spend time with Chin—firstly, he knew him; he wasn’t much interested in breaking in a new partner for a short-term engagement. Secondly, he really didn’t want to have to deal with any post-phone-call awkwardness. He couldn’t help but notice, however, that Sam seemed just as anxious to have Callen at his side. Callen and Chin, for their parts, played their chill/zen cards respectively, seemingly non-plussed by any arrangement.

The leads led to a warehouse, which thoroughly terrified Danny—as if he wasn’t already in a living nightmare. The warehouse led to a car chase. The car chase led to a suspect, which led to a meet in a marketplace, which led to a standoff and shootout and Callen looking strong and shaken all at once.

Then there was shrimp and the easy conversation that goes with thinking the job’s well-done, disaster’s averted, and soon everyone will be home and back to normal. Well, almost everyone… _no, you will not think about Steve right now._

“I’ve got it. Winifred,” Sam said, seemingly from nowhere.

“What’s Winifred?” Danny asked, shocked when he realized Sam had been addressing him. Despite the general ease of the conversation at Kamekona’s, Sam had yet to directly engage Danny; he did not seem to be on Sam’s radar of people worth talking to.

“Your car’s name.”

“You wanna name my car ‘Winifred’?” Danny asked, clearly displeased at the notion.

“It’s a good name.”

“It’s a terrible name.” It seemed possibly the worst name Danny could think of; and he was starting to suspect that that might be Sam’s point.

“I like it. It’s classy,” Callen interjected.

“It sounds like somebody’s grandmother,” Danny said, a sour look on his face. “How ‘bout somethin’ nice, something simple, like uh, ‘Misty’. How ‘bout ‘Misty’?”

“It’s a stripper name,” Chin supplied, oh-so-helpfully.

“I’m ok with that,” Danny shrugged off the insult.

“It’s Winifred. Winni for short,” Sam affirmed, as if Danny had no say in the matter. “Trust me, I’m right on this. Besides, you were left to your own devices with the car for how long? And all you came up with was ‘Car’? It’s Winefred. End of story.”

“It’s my car, don’t I get a say in the matter?” Danny defended.

 “You don’t really seem like a car guy to me,” Sam commented.

Chin almost choked on his beer. “You should see him and McGarrett together; Steve’s been working on his dad’s old car, and every time he takes Danny out for a drive, the thing completely craps out on him. Last time they walked back—how far was it, Danny?”

“Five miles. _Five miles_. And there were hills involved!” Danny lamented, finishing with a grumbled, “Damn amateur mechanic. It’s an old car—there’s no need to play with it, whatever Steve says. Drives my car like a lunatic all the friggin’ time, but in his car he can’t even make a fifteen degree incline.”

Chin just chuckled some more.

“Anyway, you don’t know. I could totally be a car guy. The Camero’s mine, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, you just don’t seem like the _type_ ,” Sam pushed.  

Danny knew he was being provoked, but rose to the bait regardless. “You’re naming _my_ car. Though, why should I get to name it, right? Not like I ever get to drive it. Must be a SEAL thing, taking over people’s cars,” Danny finished, looking at Chin for confirmation of his hypothesis. Chin merely raised his eyebrows a fraction of a millimeter. “In fact, I’m surprised Steve never forced me to name it.”

“Now, be fair, Danny. Steve would never force you into something you didn’t want,” Chin defended.

“Yeah, except gun battles or car chases or—“

Chin cut him off with a look. Danny knew he was right; Steve might be gung-ho at work, but he’d always tried to make Danny happy whenever they weren’t at the office.

 “What’s wrong with SEALS and cars?”  Callen asked, curious despite himself.

“I dunno. I’ve only got the two of them for a sample, but the pattern definitely seems to indicate a proclivity for commandeering vehicles that are not their own,” Danny snarked, taking another bite of his shrimp.  

“Fancy talk there, for a Jersey cop,” Sam sniped.

Danny’s hackles rose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 “Hey, Danny, would you mind getting me another beer?” Chin interrupted.

Danny gave him a look—a mixture of “why do I have to get it” and “I know what you’re doing, and it’s my fight if I want it”—, but ultimately he got up and stalked off to the shrimp truck to order another beer for Chin (and himself, since he was already up).

“Smooth, Chin,” Sam commented, swallowing another gulp of his own beer.

“What are you gonna say to him when he gets back?” Callen asked.

Chin shrugged. “’Thanks for the beer.’ I doubt I’ll have to say anything more than that.”

“He knows he was in over his head,” Sam gloated.

Chin gave Sam a look that said Danny wasn’t the only one misbehaving; Sam and Callen clearly noted the message, so Chin proceeded to play the zen-diplomat. “Danny’s normally got a feisty personality, but most of it is just for show. He sure enjoys giving McGarrett a run for his money.” (Chin gave a genuine smile at some of the memories that comment recalled.)  “And the rest of us appreciate it too, because he’s able to rein Steven in as much as anyone could hope to… But he’s been a little more on-edge lately, with Steve gone,” he finished, his voice belying a note of concern.

“Yeah, well, it’s always rough when your partner’s away,” Callen started, pausing to take a sip of his beer, contemplating his next comment. “But, they seem… particularly close.”

Chin gave Callen a once-over, trying to decide how much was implied in the comment, but affirmed, “They work very well together.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they do… Look, I’m only asking because he’s seemed particularly distraught about Steve, but… did they part on bad terms?”

Sam cleared his throat roughly, glaring at Callen, not liking the implications of his question. Callen ignored him, refocusing his attention on Chin.

“Mmmm, I’m not sure it’s really my place to say. Steve’s gone after some answers to some… personal matters. I mean, we all miss him around here, and he left really suddenly. But, I think Danny’s particularly hurt because Steve left without saying anything—just left him a note.”

“Ah. So, are the two of them… is something going on there?”

Chins lips made a small upward turn. “You know, they get asked how long they’ve been married all the time, but you’re the first to ask that without even having seen them together,” he chuckled.

“So, is that a—“ Callen started, only to be interrupted by Sam.

“Wait, they get asked that a lot? So people all over this island think Steve’s… They think he and your _colleague_ \--?” (he spit the last word with disgust) “Well, you can’t let that stand! Steve obviously wouldn’t abide by that.”

“Honestly, he doesn’t much seem to mind,” Chin shrugged off Sam’s overly-emotional reaction.

“Who doesn’t mind what?” Danny asked, finally returning with the beer. “It certainly wasn’t me, waiting in that line over there. Thanks for that, Chin.”

Chin smiled. “Thanks for the beer, Danny.”

“Yeah, sure,” Danny smiled, good-naturedly, giving Chin a knowing glance. “Anytime. Anyway, what’d I miss?”

“Not much. Just selling them on the merits of island life,” Chin lied easily.

“Don’t be fooled fellas. This island has very few things of value to offer prospective inhabitants,” Danny countered. _And one of those ‘items’ is notably missing in action…_ he thought to himself.

Before anyone could argue the point any further, Kono called. Looked like the case wasn’t over after all.

One airport arrest later and they were off to LA.


	2. Chapter 2

To say the plane ride was tense would be an understatement. As if Danny didn’t have enough to worry about with the threat of a worldwide epidemic (and his daughter being in a small, well-traveled country sure to be hit should this thing go global), Sam was acting incredibly uncomfortable and, dare he say _hostile?_ , around him.

“Ok, somebody please have something to talk about to get my mind off this case. How many hours we have left on this bucket? Let’s play a game or _something_. I’m going insane over here.”

Callen made to ferret out some playing cards, but Sam pulled him back down to his seat. Callen gave him a questioning look.

“We’ve got another five hours in the air, Williams,” Sam informed him. “Will you please act like a grown-up?”

“A grown-up?” Danny looked around for some support. “I _am_ acting like a grown-up. A grown-up who’s trying to track down a very deadly virus before it causes billions of deaths. I think asking to have a few hours _not_ thinking about all the people we may have to bury isn’t asking too much.”

“Oh, would you man-up and stop whining and deal with it?” Sam snapped.

 Danny’s eyes were wide with surprise. “I’m sorry, now I’m not _man_ enough for you?”

“Seriously, how did you ever survive as cop in New Jersey? Aren’t you all supposed to be macho guys over there? It’s people like you that we probably have to blame for—“

“Don’t _finish_ that sentence,” Danny cut him off, knowing that if he heard the end of it, he’d be forced to do something rash. And, given Sam’s size, he didn’t really want to be pushed to that point.

“You know what, we’re all on edge. Sam, why don’t you get some rest or something, and Danny and I will play cards?” Callen suggested.

Chin just rolled over to continue his nap.

“Did I do something?” Danny mumbled to Callen, as he watched the NCIS agent shuffle the cards. Danny and Callen were sat well-away from their two prostrate companions.

Callen studied at Danny with something that looked like a mixture of pity and sorrow in his eyes. “No, Danny, it’s nothing you _did_.”

“Then what’s the problem? He’s clearly not just against Five-0 in general; he’s fine with Chin,” Danny looked down and away before finishing his sentiment: “and he clearly still likes Steve...”

“Hey, look, I just wanted to say,” Callen started, clearly evading Danny’s question, “that I’m really sorry about Steve up and leaving like he did.”

Danny looked at Callen, surprise written all over his face. “How did--?”

“Chin told us.”

Danny raised his eyebrows even further, begging Callen to elaborate. “What exactly did he tell you?” Danny asked, a guarded tone in his voice.

“No details. Just that Steve wasn’t around because he’d gone to find some answers to… what did he say? Ah, ‘personal questions’.” Callen paused, then added softly, with an uncanny note of empathy in his voice, “And that he left without saying goodbye.”

Danny looked like he’d been punched in the gut at the mention of Steve’s parting.

“Anyway, look, I’m not saying anything here, just that I’m sorry, because I know you’re stressed with the small pox and everything—we all are—but it sucks having to worry about your partner as well, on top of everything else.”

Danny nodded, a lump in his throat. Trying desperately to swallow it down, he choked out, “Thanks. But, you know,” he cleared his throat, “it’s the whole team he’s gone from, not just me.” He fiddled with his cards.

“Yeah, sure, of course.”

Danny looked up at him, sensing the dismissal in Callen’s voice. “What?”

Callen shrugged. “Nothing, you’re right. He’s gone from the whole team.”

“…but…?” Danny prompted, not entirely sure he wanted to hear what Callen wasn’t saying.

Callen looked at Danny studiously, gauging whether or not to continue. “Well, but, he’s not just your team-mate, is he?” At Danny’s shocked expression, Callen quickly backtracked. “I mean you’re partners. There’s clearly a… strong bond between the two of you.”

“What are you implying?” Danny asked, a defensive tone noticeable in his voice.

“Nothing, I’m not implying anything. Only just, he only called _you_ , didn’t he? Couldn’t even say anything, called to somehow let _you_ know he was ok.” Danny opened his mouth to protest, but Callen pushed on, “He didn’t call Five-0 headquarters, he called _your_ cell phone—to make sure he got _you_ , right? Any other conclusion a good detective would draw from that?” Danny sat silent, unable to form words to deny Callen’s statement. “So, what I’m saying is, I mean, I’m not implying anything, but, I mean, he couldn’t even speak; it sounded like he literally just called to hear your _voice_.” Callen looked Danny straight in the eye. “Whatever there is between you two—and I’m not implying anything!” he quickly defended “—but whatever it is, it obviously means a lot to both of you. And that’s gotta be really tough. So, I’m just trying to offer my… support… or something,” Callen finished, somewhat lamely.

Danny looked at the man sitting across from him, looked him in the eye, and offered a sincere, “Thanks. For that.”

Nodding, Callen pushed one step further. “And, eh-hem, for what it’s worth,” he quickly glanced over his shoulder to see that their companions were still sleeping at the other end of the cabin, “if there _is_ anything… _deeper_ going on between you two, you have my support for that too.” The detective looked simultaneously abashed and surprised. “Life’s short. If you find what you want, you gotta go after it. Not everyone is so lucky, you know?”

Danny blinked. He was at a loss for what else to do. Then, very softly, he asked, “Where did you get that idea? It was the phone call, wasn’t it? I should never have had that on speaker…”

Callen just glanced at the distraught man.

Then, it dawned on Danny. “That’s why Sam hates me, isn’t it? He thinks I’m—He thinks Steve and I—“

“Hey, it’s none of his business, either way,” Callen said firmly. “Forget what he thinks.”

“But that’s why he hates my guts, isn’t it? And all those comments about ‘machismo’ and ‘being a man’—it was homophobic bullshit!” Danny’s voice was getting louder with each word.

“Whoa, Williams, take it easy!” Callen hushed. “First of all, keep it down, will you? No need to poke a sleeping bear… or SEAL—they’re even more dangerous,” he tried for some light humour. It failed. “Anyway, he _may_ have a slight issue with you… regarding his perception of your…relationship with McGarrett. Or at the very least—because I’m pretty sure he refuses to believe you two are ‘together’—he is deeply concerned with what your being his partner has done for McGarrett’s reputation.”

“His reputation? We’ve got an unprecedented rate of closed cases.” Danny seemed baffled.

“No, more like, the ‘marriage’ jokes that seem to have popped up around the island?”

“How did he even--? Chin.” Danny answered his own question before he had a chance to finish asking it. “I’ll have to thank him for sharing that particular piece of information…”

“In his defense, it did come up extremely naturally.”

“How and when was that?”

“At the shrimp truck. When you were off getting Chin that beer.” Danny looked annoyed. “Really though, it came right out of a comment—oh, never mind. Just try not to be mad at him.”

Danny sighed. “It’s very difficult to be mad at Chin. He’s a man of very few words; if he mentioned something, he must have thought it was important enough to merit any breech of privacy. Besides,” he reflected, “Sam didn’t want to work with me or talk with me even before that. So it’s really my own fault for picking up the phone.”

“Would you not have, if you could go back, do it again?”

“No,” Danny firmly and honestly admitted. “No, there’s no way I would have missed that call. Not for the world. Which is good to know, I suppose, seeing how it might all end very shortly here…”

They both chuckled (albeit somewhat bitterly).

Danny won the card game; to this day, he’s not certain if Callen let him or not.


	3. Chapter 3

The plane touched down in LA with four rather harried law-enforcement officers racing to the next step in the investigation. After Sam and Chin had awoken, Danny and Callen had decided to have their own go at a nap—fitful in Danny’s case, but better than nothing, he supposed. How anyone could sleep soundly at a time like this he’d never understand, but he had a sneaking suspicion his favorite SuperSEAL was someone who did so on a regular basis.

A tour of the NCIS:LA headquarters proved to be a study in Spanish architecture. And the creepy head of the department was far from his favorite aspect of the tour…as was the vaccine shot (though, he did his best to minimize his complaining, as he was in no hurry to give Sam another excuse to berate him). Meanwhile, despite Deeks’ squeamishness, Sam seemed perfectly good-natured in his ribbing of the young detective. The young _straight_ (if the looks he was giving Kensi were anything to go by) detective —clearly one of those modifiers was apparently missing in his own case and making all the difference for Mr. Sam Hanna.

Somewhere between tracking the lost airline passenger (thanks again, LAX for letting that flight deplane) and waiting for delivery for their first meal (finally) since the flight to LA, Danny found himself alone with Sam.

Sat across from one another at a worktable, laptops up, each clicking away, Danny was perfectly content to let the silence continue. Uncharacteristic of him, maybe, but at this point, getting through this case sans plague and without another altercation with Sam was his entire aim; if small talk or his usual personable kvetching were detrimental to the realization of those goals, then he could zip it for a while, of course he could; he was an adult, he had self-control, damn it.

But apparently Sam didn’t.

And Danny only had so much.

“Argh, this is disgusting!” Sam spat, his brow furrowed in horror.

Danny quirked an eyebrow, peering over his screen at the other man. “Stumble on more small-pox pictures? They’re pretty unappealing, I agree.”

“No, a pop-up add.”

“Well, those _can_ be annoying…” Danny granted, unsure what the outburst had been about. “I’m assuming they weren’t trying to sell you small-pox though, right?”

“Gay porn site,” Sam bit off each word with particular malice.

Danny cleared his throat in surprise and looked back down at his computer, trying in vain to focus on the account statement in front of him.

“It’s just vile. Who could possibly find this desirable? Unnatural perversion.”

“You know, you can set your filters on your computer to block most adds. Avoid the problem entirely,” Danny said as neutrally as he could manage.

“Maybe this doctor isn’t so wrong after all; the Earth could use a hard-reset, clean house so-to-speak.”

Danny looked at him in disbelief. Unable to let such a comment pass, he informed his colleague, “Well, unfortunately for you, you don’t get to decide who would survive an epidemic, do you? That’s not how it works. This bug would kill billions of people; only 10% of the population is gay. And in every major epidemic the world has ever faced—and there have been quite a few—somehow, gay people have made it through, because, as you’ve noticed, the proof is right there on your computer screen. The plague didn’t do it, small pox didn’t do it, influenza didn’t do it, war didn’t do it—“

“Like little cockroaches.”

“Watch what you say! You don’t know who you might be callin’ a cockroach!” Danny was trying desperately to toe the line between standing up for what was right and not putting himself needlessly in the crosshairs; I mean, this new identity wasn’t something he’d even have considered himself until very recently—he still hadn’t figured out what label, if any, fit him. He secretly hoped Steve also belonged in whatever category that was, but…

“Like _you?_ ”

Danny blanched. “I’m gonna take a break,” he declared, throwing his hands up and pushing back his chair. Rising, he headed towards the toilet.

Suddenly, he found himself smashed against a door, one arm twisted behind his back. Sam roughly spun him around so they were face to face, Danny still caught between the SEAL’s strong frame and the hard wood of the door at his back.

“Listen to me, you little smart-mouthed fairy. I don’t give a shit what you do with your twisted little dick—“

“Actually, it would appear that you do.” (Danny couldn’t help himself.)

Tightening his hold on Danny’s arms to the point of causing bruises, Sam continued as if deaf to Danny’s words, “but your preoccupation with McGarrett is entirely unacceptable. You are tarnishing his reputation and polluting his relationship with his team. You keep your filthy thoughts to yourself, and get the hell out of his life!” he growled. “Steve is straight as an arrow; a fine, upstanding SEAL and _man_ , just the way he should be. You haven’t got a chance in the world with him, so leave him the fuck alone, faggot.”

Danny was at a loss for words. Except he was still Danny, so, he wasn’t really. And he just couldn’t _not_ say something. So he did. “Last time I checked, the only criteria for ‘being a man’ was having a Y chromosome buddy. Or, I suppose, wanting to be one, because far be it from me to discount all those very nice transgendered me—“

Danny was unable to finish his retort as a heavy fist landed in his abdomen. Leaving him gasping for breath, Sam released him with a final shove against the door. Cutting his losses, Danny turned and finally made his way to the restroom—in which, if he spent more time than was strictly necessary, waiting for security of other voices entering the main room, so what?

~*~*~*~

Having collected himself and managed to make it through the meal, surrounded by the other NCIS agents and Chin who had finally rejoined him and Sam, Danny spent the rest of the case studiously avoiding Sam (interacting with him, partnering with him, addressing him—generally, anything remotely involving his existence in any way).

Which of course, did not stop Sam from being an ass at every possible opportunity. When Danny gave an encouraging remark to Kensi, Sam undercut the compliment. When Danny passed Deeks a drink, Sam made some subservient innuendo. When Danny expressed his relief at avoiding global pandemic, Sam shot back, “Not like we have you to thank for it.”

Chin, having silently observed the undeniable (and building) animosity between the men (and the fact that Danny was clearly hanging on to his restraint by the thinnest of threads), finally stepped in. “Easy, Sam. Danny’s done plenty to help in this case. He had the lead in Hawaii the entire time, and helped track down your suspect once we got here.”

“Lucky for us we had him,” Sam muttered sarcastically.

“Hey, Danny’s a great detective, a terrific partner, and an excellent father,” Chin said, a warning in his voice for Sam to cool-it.

“You’re a father?” Sam looked shocked, turning and actually addressing Danny for the first time in hours. “How did _that_ happen?”

Danny looked at him confused. “What do you mean how did that happen? Listen, bud, my daughter’s amazing, but she ain’t the second coming. How the hell do you think it happened?”

“Well, with someone like you—“ Sam started, before he was cut off.

“Ok, enough! The case is over, we saved the world. It’s time to get this dog-and-pony show back on the road, alright? Clearly, our collaborative efforts have drawn to an end here,” Chin said, eyeing Sam and leaving no room for argument in his voice. He patted Danny on the shoulder and said, kindly, “Shall we make our goodbyes?”

It was all Danny could do not to sprint out of NCIS headquarters and hop back on a plane to Hawaii—a feeling he’d never have imagined, not in a million years.


	4. Chapter 4

After a series of awkward goodbyes and false promises to keep in touch, Danny found himself finally sat on a plane, taking that very flight ‘home’. But just what was he going ‘home’ to? Sam may have been a prick, but he did have a fair case: not only was Steve not there (a major strike against the allure of Hawaii), but even if he did return in one piece, did Danny really belong as part of the Five-0 team? His unreciprocated feelings for his partner would undoubtedly make their working relationship awkward; inevitably he would need to leave, start over, find a new position and new colleagues… new friends. It was only a matter of time before his world unraveled yet again.

Chin interrupted his thoughts, standing and moving to the seat next to him, sliding down the leather with ease. “Hey, you look like you didn’t just save the world. Everyone’s safe—shouldn’t you get to relax a little, decompress?”

“Short-jokes, Chin? That’s what you’re going with?” Danny jested, knowing full-well that’s not what the other man meant.

Chin indulged him with a smile. “No, really, Danny. You look like you’re carrying the world.”

Danny just shrugged.

“Look, I know going back to Five-0 without Steve is rough, but you’ve gotta trust that he knows how to take care of himself—“

“I know. I know he does. Most of the time anyway. Oh, G’d I’m such a shitty friend, I didn’t tell you—I got a call from him. He’s alive—that’s really all I know, but he is alive. At least he was, like, 36 hours ago.”

“What? You got a call from him? And he didn’t tell you any more than that?”

“He didn’t tell me _anything_ actually. Not a single word. But it was definitely him on the line.”

“So, he just called…and didn’t say anything? When was this—does Kono know?”

“The other day, just after I picked up Sam and Callen—he called my cell; I had the call on speaker actually; you can ask them for confirmation.”

“He called you directly,” Chin said, a reflective look on his face.

“Yeah, look I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you; I just, I was still reeling, and with Sam and Callen there—What?” Danny interrupted _himself_ at the indulgent look on Chin’s face.

“Yeah, well you should probably tell Kono over the phone, so she has time to calm down before she sees you; she’s got a mean roundhouse kick, brah. But, that’s beside the point; he called _you; your cell phone._ It sounds to me, Danny, like he called just to hear your voice.” Chin chuckled, “Which, honestly, is something you should definitely _never_ let him forget; especially every time he complains about your ranting!”

Danny gave a small smile.  They sat in easy silence for a few minutes, before Danny almost whispered, “You know, Callen said the same thing—that he called just to hear my voice. It didn’t occur to me as a real possibility that he was on to something…”

Chin sat up a little straighter. “Look, Danny. I’m not trying to overstep my bounds here, and you know I respect both you and Steve’s privacy.” Danny looked a little on edge that this opening statement. “But it’s obvious the two of you have something special—you’re relationship with one another—whatever it is—is strong and deep. And he’s not going to throw that away.”

“He basically just did, Chin. He left without a word—just a pathetic note.”

“Danny, you know what that says to me? It says he didn’t think he was strong enough to leave if he actually had to say goodbye.”

Chin paused a few moments, letting Danny absorb his words.

“Look, here’s what I know. I know that you and Steve act like a married couple whenever you’re together.” Chin gave Danny a stilling look when it Danny opened his mouth to object. “I know that you’re together _a lot_ —not just at work,” he continued. “And I won’t put words or feelings in your mouth, Danny, but when he comes back, I think you should know that no one has a problem with this. Not me, not Kono—“

“And Steve?”

“Please, Danny. The only two people blind to what’s going on between you two are you and him! He’s been pining after you for months. Giving you puppy-dog eyes every single day! The way he trails after you—or tries to get you to come along with him wherever he’s going. Why do you think he’s always driving your car?”

“Because he’s a control freak?” Danny suggested, though less sure of that answer in light of Chin’s recent comments.

“Because this way you’re always at his side, you thick-headed… you know, for a detective, it’s deeply disturbing you can’t see what’s right in front of you-- what’s been right in front of you for ages,” Chin finished, shaking his head.

“He’s a SEAL, Chin. SEAL’s aren’t like that—“

“What, now you’re from the 1930’s? Since when do you hold such prejudiced, parochial attitudes? I thought the East Coast was supposed to be progressive and liberal and all that.”

“Yeah, the civilians, not the cops, not the _military_.”

“They repealed DADT, Danny. Things are changing.”

“Not according to Sam,” Danny huffed, sounding oddly defeated; it was a sound Chin had never heard on him—a sound distinctly not suited to the young man whose personality was more akin to the Tasmanian Devil than to Eeyore ; Chin hoped he’d never hear that sound in Danny’s voice again.

“Mmm, Sam get into it with you, did he?” Chin asked, his suspicions finally confirmed.

Danny shrugged and looked away, returning his gaze to the view on the other side of the double-plated window. _It’d be so easy to get lost in the endless blue out here_ , he thought to himself. _No worries, no consequences, no nothing._ “He knows Steve pretty well; they served together for a while.”

“So do you, Danny. And you know him better.” Danny looked at Chin skeptically. “You know what he’s like _out_ of the uniform. You know what he’s like on a chase, at the shrimp shack, at the pub, on a surfboard, _at his home_. You know what he’s like breaking terrible news to a victim’s family. You know him on the weekend, after a beer. You even know what he’s like when he’s teaching your daughter to build sandcastles or swim with dolphins.”

Danny still didn’t look convinced.

“Look, Sam knows Steve the way he wants to know Steve. He remembers him in the light of their years as SEALs and what that meant. And what that meant also includes what it was _supposed to mean_ ; namely, that they were big, tough, macho guys. _Straight_ guys. And that’s what Sam wants Steve to be, wants him to stay; it’s probably why he detests you—he sees you as a threat to pulling that façade down. Because that’s what it is Danny: a façade that Steve constructed to fit the mould—a mould he _had_ to fit. But trust me, brah, I’ve seen how he is with you and how he is when he thinks you’re not looking and how he is when you’re not around and he wishes you were (which is always, by the way)—he doesn’t quite fit that mould, that poster-boy image that he put up all that time he was in the service. And you know what, I don’t think he _wants_ to; I think if you gave him the slightest indication that he didn’t have to be that—that he has a chance to have something more— _with you_ —he’d jump in with both feet.”

Danny chuckled, despite the shock he was feeling. “Like he jumps in any other way, with _anything_.” They both laughed. “You know, this is the most I think I’ve ever heard you say, at any one time, _ever_.” Chin just smiled and shrugged. “Ha, and there’s that zen reticence again!” Danny bumped his shoulder against that of the slimmer man. He cleared his throat, “But, thanks.”

The rest of the flight was passed in companionable silence—Danny feeling just the slightest spark of hope beginning to light within his chest—a welcome addition to the doubt and fear that had resided in there for so long.

Now if only Steve would come home, so he could see if Chin really was on to something.


	5. Chapter 5

And they were back in Hawaii, almost back to normal. But they were still missing the single most important member of the team. And it was slowly killing Danny.

~*~*~*~

Weeks went by. And then, by miracle or curse: another classified phone call. At least this time he got to hear Steve’s voice. Only, of course, for that voice to tell him that it couldn’t tell him anything. He honestly wasn’t sure which was worse anymore—not hearing from Steve, or hearing from him only to be told just enough to know he was in danger, but not anything that could help him help him.

Fuck Wo Fat and this whole thing.

~*~*~*~

The CIA. Stonewalled. Tied to a chair. Clocked in the head. Kidnapped in a van with a bag over his head. And no, these things did not occur in that order, but he couldn’t fully be certain of what order they occurred in, thank you very much concussion and general traumatic experience.

~*~*~*~

Plane missing. Plane landed. Lots and lots and lots of guns. And where the hell was Steve in all this? Best to look right at the center, really…

~*~*~*~

When Danny finally saw Steve, he had about 7 guns trained on him… of course. Because it wouldn’t have been a _Steve_ homecoming without that. He really did hate the man.

Once Noshimuri lowered his weapon, and Kono dropped the jackass lawyer, and the dust settled, he finally got to say hello. Or his version of ‘hello’ at the very least. Which consisted of, in response to Steve giving him this _look_ for which he really had no words (he’d work on that later), he said, “Cargo pants. I knew it.” And then clocked him, right in the face. And when Steve whipped his head around, he wiped that stunned expression off his gorgeous visage by kissing him with such animal ferocity (without a second thought, mind you) that he backed the taller man up against the plane and wouldn’t come up for air until absolutely necessary. For Steve’s part, his initial shock soon wore off, and he was quickly returning the kiss with equal fervor, hands running through Danny’s hair, pulling his mouth even closer to his, seemingly trying to meld them together—laws of physics be damned. And after what seemed like an eternity (or maybe just 20 seconds), someone coughed. Loudly. Twice. No, three times. And they pulled apart. Most of HPD was studiously avoiding glancing in their direction, but Kono stood there with a “what the fuck?” expression on her face, while Chin managed to maintain his inscrutable zen aura.

“Now _that_ is a welcome home.” (Steve)

“Black cargo pants. You pull ‘em off, what can I say.” Steve just smirked back at him. “And if you ever, _EVER_ do something like this again, Steven, I swear to all that is good and holy—“

“I know, Danno, I know.” Steve grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him around the other side of the plane for a semblance of privacy; maintaining a firm hold on those broad shoulders, he looked him directly in the eye. “I promise, I won’t. Ok? I won’t. I regretted it the whole time I was gone,” he added, much more softly. “Especially when I thought I’d never see you again, or get to tell you—“

“Yeah, yeah, me too. It’s ok, babe,” he said, with understanding and sympathy. “But _never_ again, I can’t take this, MaGarrett. I can’t. We do this?” (he gestured between the two of them) “We do this—me and you, it’s _me and you_. Not just you, sometimes when you feel like it. It’s _me_ AND you. Together. End of.” 

“You really want that?” Steve looked floored, stunned, happy, surprised, and a whole mess of other emotions Danny couldn’t identify. This would be a hard face to name—but one he hoped merited the effort, for the frequency at which he hopped it would reappear.

“Yes, you goof, yes I want that. And it’s insanity that it a) took _this_ to get here,” he said, gesturing at the cops, the fugitive, and the arrested Yakuza men, “and b) that it _is_ what I want, because I swear you _will_ be the death of me…” he grinned. “But yes, I do want that.” He added quietly. Then, apprehensively, he looked at Steve, “is that… is that what you want? Or—“

“Yes! Yes, Danny that’s exactly what I want. I just never thought… that it was a possibility… I’m not sure I’d have ever left if I had…”

“How could you not think it was a possibility!?” Danny threw his hands up in violent exasperation.

“Danny, I’ve only ever seen you with women. Heartbroken—twice—over Rachel. And then a certain Gabrielle Assanto entered the picture in a big way. I mean, what was I supposed to think? How could I compete with that? I still can’t imagine—“

“Shut up, Steven. Just, just stop. You’re not competing with them. Because it’s not even close. I’m in love with you, you Neanderthal moron. _You_. Was I a little surprised when I figured it out? Yeah. Have I been in this particular situation before—no, not quite. But I’m looking forward to learning a few new ‘tricks’… with you… If that’s alright?” The wind in his rant had petered out by the end, and he was looking suddenly bashful and insecure at his admission at being new to this particular game.

“Yeah, yeah Danny, it’s alright. It’s more than alright. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Can we please go home now?”

“You got it, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, we're just pretending there's no policy-problem with them getting together. Fraternization secrecy? Bah.


End file.
